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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27959537">all I know is that this is where I wanna be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee'>brilliantbanshee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(not really mentions but heavily hinted), Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Holiday Angst, Holiday Traditions, It's a little sad I'm sorry, Mentions of Cancer, these two just make me really emotional</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:01:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27959537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Promise me this won’t be our last Christmas together” + comfort for 911 Christmas Week, Day 3</p><p>---</p><p>TK helps Owen decorate for Christmas and asks his dad to make him a promise. Owen would love to give his son the reassurance he wants, but there are somethings even he can’t do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Owen Strand &amp; TK Strand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all I know is that this is where I wanna be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from "Don't Stop Now" by The Maine (and suggested by <a href="https://terramous.tumblr.com/">Max</a>). </p><p>Written for 911 Christmas week - Day 3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dad, let me get that.” </p><p> </p><p>“TK, I am not an invalid. And this isn’t even heavy.” </p><p> </p><p>“Still, you strain yourself enough at work, you shouldn’t be doing it on your off-hours too.”</p><p> </p><p>Owen threw a skeptical look at his son, “What, and leave you to get all the boxes down from the attic alone?” </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yes.</em> I’ll bring them down, you can start unpacking them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I give!” Owen held up his hands in surrender and backed away from TK, who was rolling his eyes at his father even as he headed back up the ladder to the attic to grab the rest of the boxes. </p><p> </p><p>“Have there always been this many?” he called down from the attic and Owen chuckled. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes. You were usually just conveniently busy whenever it was time to take them down.” </p><p> </p><p>Three trips later TK carefully set down a stack of boxes precariously balanced in his arms before stepping back and surveying the pile of boxes, “That’s the last of it and I’m starting to think that we should seriously consider parring some of this down before we pack it up again at the end of the season.”</p><p> </p><p>“When did you become such a grinch?” </p><p> </p><p>“I am not being a grinch, I’m trying to be practical — do we really need this many Christmas decorations?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p> </p><p>TK rolled his eyes but Owen could see the smile threatening to form, “okay, fine. I still think it would be better if we narrowed it down just a bit.”  </p><p> </p><p>“But what would Christmas be without the decorations you made in first grade?” Owen asked as he pulled a lopsided reindeer ornament out of one of the boxes, holding it up to show TK.</p><p> </p><p>“See now <em> that </em>is definitely something we don’t need,” TK lunged to grab for it but Owen pulled it away. </p><p> </p><p>“Nope, sorry son; it is my sworn duty as your father to save all of your old art projects and pull them out once a year to embarrass you. I don’t make the rules.”   </p><p> </p><p>“Dad…” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s tradition TK! Besides, I’m sure Carlos will find it adorable.” </p><p> </p><p>TK groaned but turned away. He knew arguing with his father when it came to things like this was impossible — he would just wait and sneak it down later. </p><p> </p><p>They continued going through the boxes and pulling out what they would need, deciding where in the new house everything should go. It certainly had a lot more space to fill than Owen’s old New York apartment had but judging by the amount of decor tumbling out of the boxes, it wouldn’t be a problem. </p><p> </p><p>“Why do you even have all this stuff?” TK asked at one point, “There is no way you had room for all this in the apartment.” </p><p> </p><p>Owen shrugged, “I didn’t put it all up every year. Besides, it’s mostly just accumulated stuff. Some of it was your mom’s, some of it Tracy’s. Guess they didn’t want it when they left.” </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t imagine why,” TK deadpanned as he pulled out a length of sparkly pink tinsel. </p><p> </p><p>“That was definitely Tracy’s,” Owen noted, “we can probably get rid of that.” </p><p> </p><p>“Have you heard from her recently?” </p><p> </p><p>“Not since before we left New York. Why, have you?” </p><p> </p><p>TK shrugged, “Not much, a text here and there. She still makes sure to call me on my birthday every year.” </p><p> </p><p>Owen smiled, “She’s good like that.” </p><p> </p><p>TK returned the smile, a little sadly, “Yeah, she is. Unfortunately, I think the pink tinsel has to go. I don’t think anyone but her could pull it off.” </p><p> </p><p>Owen chuckled and moved on to the next box. He paused before opening it, looking over at TK who was frowning as he pulled tangled garland out of the box before him. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s nice having you here to help me with this. It’s like old times, I’ve missed this.” </p><p> </p><p>TK looks away from Owen, suddenly very focused on the garland tangle in his hand, “I’m sorry for skipping out on you for the past few years. There were always...other things that I somehow managed to convince myself were more important.” </p><p> </p><p>They both knew who he meant by “other things,” but Owen moved past it breezily. </p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter. That’s in the past and with all that has happened, I think it’s safe to say that we’ve both changed since then.”</p><p> </p><p>He reached into the box before him and made a triumphant noise as he pulled out the tree topper. “I found it — ready to help me put it on?” </p><p> </p><p>TK nodded and placed down the hopeless knot he had been fiddling with, crossing the room to join his dad at the tree. Owen had pulled out the step ladder and was about to climb up it when TK interrupted him, “Dad,” he said reproachfully. </p><p> </p><p>“A little climb up a step ladder isn’t going to kill me, TK.” </p><p> </p><p>“Best not to risk it though.” </p><p> </p><p>Owen rolled his eyes, but handed over the tree topper regardless. TK took it from him and climbed up instead, carefully placing it on the top of the tree before climbing down and standing next to his dad to admire it. It was a stylized red and green fire helmet with 252 emblazoned on the front; a gift from his dad’s old crew, years and years ago. </p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Owen noted, “maybe it’s time for a new one. I think 126 would look pretty good up there, what do you think?” </p><p> </p><p>TK didn’t answer. Instead, he was studying Owen, watching the happiness and joy radiate from him at the simple sight of the decorated tree; of a night spent together putting it all up. </p><p> </p><p>“Dad?” he asked, voice low.</p><p> </p><p>Owen turned to face him, his smile dropping when he saw TK’s expression, “What is it, kid?” </p><p> </p><p>“Promise me this won’t be our last Christmas together.” </p><p> </p><p>Owen sucked in a breath as he noticed the tears gathering in his son’s eyes. Instead of answering he took a step closer, pulling him into a tight hug. </p><p> </p><p>“You know I can’t promise that,” he said into the embrace, “no more than you can.” </p><p> </p><p>There was silence for a while as the two Strand men stood in the middle of the cheerily decorated living room, clutching each other tightly. Eventually, Owen spoke again: </p><p> </p><p>“But I can promise I will do everything I can to make sure that it is not. I want a lot more Christmases with you kiddo, and I am going to do everything I can to make sure that we get them.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come find me on <a href="https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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